


Word-A-Day: Intercrural

by fyborg23



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Intercrural Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyborg23/pseuds/fyborg23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gally laid in bed, running through a list of things he could do to Chuckie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Word-A-Day: Intercrural

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://hastybooks.tumblr.com/post/72151595898/serenadestrong-alex-galchenyuk-bugging-brendan) gif, which serenadestrong added "I'm going to go ahead and assume he pinched his butt". Matters escalated from there.

Gally laid in bed, running through a list of things he could do to Chuckie.

Shaving cream pie? Overdone. Soaking his bed? Christ, Gally didn't want to wake up *dead*. Taping his skate blades? No, Chuckie checked his blades every time he put his skates on. Superstitious Russian. And Gally wasn't cruel enough to put IcyHot in Chuckie's jock-- ok, more like smart enough, because Chuckie would just hold him down as he put salonpas stickers all over Gally's chest. Probably in front of the whole team.

 But Chuckie deserved whatever was coming to him. But whenever Gally turned around and saw Chuckie do that stupid head bobble that happened whenever he did something he thought was hilarious, Gally wanted to smack Chuckie. Like pinching Gally's ass.

And Chuckie did it just all the fucking time. Especially in front of the press, where Gally couldn't give him a deadarm in return-- not even Gally was that D-U-M. Gally looked up at the ceiling, counting the little dimples in it. Kicked off his blanket. They had a road trip tomorrow, travelling to Florida, and Gally just couldn't fucking sleep. Not when Chuckie was going to be firmly attached to Gally's ass and pinching it into--

Gally jerked up.

Yanked his phone from his charger.

Typed in, _thighs_. Gally slammed the phone down on the end-table, smiling viciously.

One good pinch deserved another. Damn, that was a good one. Gally smothered his cackle into a pillow, thinking about the look on Chuckie's face when he got what was coming to him.

*

Target: Chuckie's thighs.

Objective: Leave them covered in pinch marks.

Easy enough in theory.

A bit difficult to do at the moment though-- Gally was wearing hockey gloves and collecting pucks (which, jeez, didn't they have anyone else to select for this task, Gally got every shot on goal in this practice) and Chuckie was just leaning on his hockey stick like he was Dryden. Gally looked up at Chuckie from his knees, and glared. Chuckie just raised the corner of his mouth and flicked his hockey stick on Gally's ass. Gally looked away from Chuckie, his face on fire from *anger*, yeah, it was anger-- and smashed the bottom of the bucket against the ice, making a little pile of snow. Gally stretched over to collect one last puck--

THWACK--

Even through Gally's hockey pants that *stung*.

Gally looked over his shoulder, seeing Chuckie do that damn head-bobble *again*--

Gally closed a glove over the little pile of snow on the ice, and skated over to Chuckie. Gally got up close to his face-- ok, his neck-- close enough that Gally could smell Chuckie's sweat. And smacked the glove full of snow on Chuckie's neck.

Chuckie yelped, much like a little girl, flailed around before he regained his balance, and shot Gally a look that promised revenge.

Bring it on. Chuckie's thighs were a bigger target than Gally's ass.

*

Another game, another presser--

And another fucking pinch.

Gally didn't turn around this time. No. Nope. Gally annoyed the shit out of people for fun and for work, he knew how it went. Show irritation, and they'd just come back for more, launching this weird cycle of more and more annoying shit. Instead, Gally just answered questions until the reporters left--

As soon as the last one slithered out of the dressing room, Gally pinched the skin just above Chuckie's knee-- hard. Gally had to cackle at the angry glare Chuckie sent him, and Gally knew damn well getting pinched there hurt. Chuckie was obviously torn between clenching his jaw and rubbing vigorously at his knee.

But even Chuckie knew the rules.

Chuckie said flatly, “What was that for.”

Gally smelled blood in the water. And like a shark, he showed his teeth and moved away, letting Chuckie marinate in his anger. Chuckie could be pissed for days. Gally was looking forward to it.

*

Chuckie was slowly pulling himself up on the chin-up bar when Gally cornered him, his face scrunched in concentration. Chuckie had earbuds in his ears, probably slowly destroying what was left of his hearing and taste with non-Gally approved music. Gally grinned, and walked up to Chuckie, seeing Chuckie's ass sway up and down with each rep.

It was almost hypnotizing.

Gally reached out and pinched Chuckie's thigh--

Chuckie screamed “SHIT” on his way down to the ground--

Gally wriggled his hips to no avail-- he was firmly stuck underneath 180 pounds of Russian beef. *Angry* Russian beef. Chuckie slapped at the floor mat in frustration, and made sure to dig an elbow into Gally before he got up.

Gally bounced up, pissed, because that elbow was dirty-- and not at all *deserved*. Chuckie dragged Gally in by his t-shirt, stretching the CH logo on it hopelessly out of shape, and said menacingly-- or as menacingly as his angry-kitten expression could allow-- “What is wrong with you.”

Gally could only shrug; it wasn't exactly an original question. Although Gally vaguely thought he could give Chuckie a fiver-- and only a fiver-- if Chuckie's answer was any good. Chuckie held onto Gally for a few ticks--

Then Prusty burst into the weight room, slamming the door against the doorstops with a loud WHUMP, and fucking *waltzing* towards the weight bench. Shooting them amused expressions all the while. How did Prusty do that?

They both stared as Prusty lowered a weight bar onto himself, his arms taking the strain easily even as he was licking his lips.

“Boys, if you're finished cuddling each other, I could use a spotter!” Prusty said, practically cackling, and Chuckie looked at his fist in Gally's shirt and yanked it away like Gally was on fire. Gally felt vaguely offended. And a lot annoyed. His t-shirt was never going to be the same again.

*

Gally slid next to Chuckie at the team dinner, his plate piled high with steak. Chuckie looked at Gally's plate and smirked.

“You're not going to grow anymore,” Chuckie said. Gally pinched Chuckie's thigh in response. Chuckie got that dangerous glint in his eyes, the one that seemed to bring out the shine in them, so Gally did what anyone would've done--

He pinched Chuckie's thigh again, making sure to give a little twist before he let go. The clench in Chuckie's jaw gave Gally great joy.

*

This time it wasn't a presser. 

Gally was reaching for his gloves on the shelf above his stall when he felt a finger right in between his ass cheeks--

And a solid body right behind him, breathing heavily into his ear. Gally bit the inside of his lip, shifted his hips away from that damn finger, only to have Chuckie say mockingly into his ear, “What are you doing, Gally?”

Gally wanted to spin around, give Chuckie a good punch to the gut, but that would mean he would lose whatever the fuck this was. Gally *hated* losing.

Instead he threw the gloves down on his seat and said to the wooden panel in front of him, “Says the fucker practically fingering me.”

Chuckie pressed closer to him, forcing Gally to bend a little over the stall seat with his ass still in Chuckie's hand. Gally felt warm. That fucking douche put out heat like a bonfire. Gally felt all degrees of offended, and highly regretful that he didn't get to see if the thigh pinches he gave Chuckie had left any angry purple welts.

Chuckie fucking *rubbed* his finger; it was all Gally could do not to squirm against the sensation, and Gally had to think very hard about the Bruins to lose whatever was happening in his pants. It was not a hard-on. Nope. Gally breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, hoping to compose himself before he said, “You going to let me get my gear?”

Chuckie wound a hand around Gally's hip and squeezed hard. Said, a bit louder this time, “What are you doing?”

Gally ground his teeth. Just once. Then he turned around in Chuckie's grip, looked up at his smug face, and gave him his best shit-eating smile, the one that positively enraged opposing guys into doing dumb shit. Gally responded in the same tone, “Nothing different than what you're doing right now.”

Chuckie actually cackled, the fucker, and said, “Molesting my thighs? Not terribly--” a sharp pinch to Gally's ass-- “subtle”-- a pinch to the crease between his leg and ass-- “if you were *that* interested, you could just ask.”

The penny finally drops. About a hundred of them. Gally would've liked to crawl through the wall in front of him, to maul Chuckie's thighs until he cried--

But not in front of Therrien and the rest of the boys. Pricey and PK were looking at them like--

Gally bit his lip. Like Chuckie and Gally were, what, pay-per-view porn? Not that Gally knew anything at all about that. Nope.

*

Gally shoved his arms into his coat, feeling Chuckie's eyes on him. Gally would've liked to put on a little show, make Chuckie squirm, but honestly he had a golden chance to get laid here, and Gally wasn't going to fuck that up. Chuckie slung an arm around Gally's neck, and said, “Ready?”

Like Chuckie ever had to ask. The ride to his place was—heh – tense. Gally couldn't stop looking at Chuckie's thighs, at the way Chuckie drummed his fingers atop one of them whenever they stopped at a red light. The only reason Gally sat on his hands was because it would be *really* difficult to explain any accidents to Bergevin's disapproving face.

They made it. Gally bounded out of the car and up to the door-- and Chuckie insisted on pinching Gally's ass the whole way.

Actually, the pinches turned into groping around when Chuckie put his key into the lock and pushed Gally towards his room. Chuckie used his size-- the unfair bastard-- to press Gally against his messy bed-- was that a lump under the cover?

“You didn't even clean up,” Gally muttered. Chuckie did that fucking stupid head-bobble. Why was Gally even attracted--

Chuckie yanked off his clothes, throwing them against a pile of clothes that had taken over a large corner, and Gally had to take in the increase in Chuckie's definition, the stretch of his arm--

Oh. *Yeah*. Gally shrugged, and took off his shirt; Chuckie almost tore Gally's pants off him, and Gally just had to pull Chuckie in and bite that lip for Chuckie, stick his hand into Chuckie's undies--

Chuckie dug his nails into Gally's thighs, making Gally moan into Chuckie's mouth, “Fuck”.

Chuckie looked down at him, raised an eyebrow, and rolled his cock against Gally's leg, “That's the idea.”

Gally rolled his eyes, and pulled Chuckie closer to him. Chuckie slid his hand against Gally's ribs, pressing a little hard on an old bruise. The pain almost made Gally shout, but instead he reached down and stroked himself. Chuckie got a hot look in his eyes, which Gally figured was a fan-fucking-tastic thing, and Gally grinned up at him as he fucked into his hand a little faster. Chuckie stopped Gally with a sharp grip on his hips--

Gally smirked, spreading his legs as much as he could under Chuckie's weight, cradling his balls with one hand while running his other hand over Chuckie's ass--

“Will. You. Stop,” Chuckie ground out, obviously distracted by Gally's hand palming his ass--

The glare Chuckie gave Gally was really hot, not gonna lie; but what was even hotter was Chuckie slamming Gally's wandering hands to the mattress and telling him to 'keep it there', his accent coming to the forefront right *then*. Gally felt the rush of blood everywhere in his body--

Chuckie reached under the pillow Gally's head was on and brought out a well-used tube of lube, which, *fuck*. Thinking about Chuckie fingering himself in this very bed, being as mean towards himself as he was being towards Gally, maybe even cursing under his breath in Russian as he came-- Gally swallowed. Chuckie smirked, said, “Spread your legs.”

Gally blinked.

Chuckie-- misreading whatever he saw on Gally's face-- colored a bright red, said to the spot right next to Gally's head, “It's just intercrural fucking.”

“Intercrural?” Gally wasn't expecting the 'word-a-day' shit to pop up now, and man, did it annoy Gally just a little that Chuckie's English was better than *his*--

Chuckie levelled a flat look, “Thigh fucking, Brendan.”

Gally was on-fucking-board with this-- “Yeah.”

Chuckie lifted one corner of his mouth and popped open the lube, said, “Good,” slicked Gally's thighs. Gally was one misplaced hand from coming right now, which Chuckie clearly knew, judging by the way his thumb brushed against Gally's cock, smearing his precome all over. Chuckie pulled back, and slicked his own cock, which Gally watched with interest--

And a great deal of satisfaction that he was *right*; Chuckie was ruthless with himself, even giving his cock a little squeeze when he finished smearing lube over it. Chuckie palmed Gally's cock with his lube-slick hand, making Gally do something that was so not a whine, the heat and the wetness almost making Gally's thighs quiver.

Chuckie pressed Gally's thighs closer together, and slid his cock in between Gally's thighs, his dick nudging teasingly against Gally's balls--

Two could play at this game. Gally squeezed his thighs closer together--

Chuckie shoved his free hand into Gally's hair, kissed him, and rocked harder between Gally's legs. Gally thrust his hips up, rubbing his cock against Chuckie's hand, feeling dirtier doing *this* than he ever had felt in any of the ass-fucking he had ever got--

“Fuck, Gally,” Chuckie said, rocking faster against him, biting Gally's lip almost bloody--

Gally licked into Chuckie's mouth, feeling Chuckie's cock slide against his balls, smooth and quick--

Chuckie's thumb stroked over Gally's cock--

Gally's heels skittered against the mattress, and he could feel his toes curl along with a sharp heat between his legs--

Gally came all over Chuckie's stomach, rocking his hips into Chuckie's hand, feeling hotter under Chuckie's gaze--

Chuckie rubbed his hand over Gally's cock, making it twitch, his tongue darting out on his lower lip as he stared at Gally. Gally trailed his fingertips through his come, and sucked on them. It was worth it, seeing Chuckie look like he wanted to pin Gally down forever, to make him come again--

Gally peered up through his eyelashes-- he fucking knew what worked, ok?-- and licked his lips. He got up on his knees, a little slower than he would've liked, and pressed Chuckie against the mattress. Chuckie went along easily, spreading his legs obscenely. Gally leered down at him, taking in Chuckie's smooth thighs and the small splashes of come against Chuckie's navel, until Chuckie glared at him, said, “You going to make me come or not?”

Gally leaned down, licked the small white dots off Chuckie's stomach, and grinned up at Chuckie's face. Chuckie pulled Gally up by his hair, rocking his hips closer to Gally's mouth--

Gally licked at the head of Chuckie's cock, ignoring the feel of lube until he got down to the saltiness of *Chuckie*, listening to Chuckie mutter in Russian above his head, taking in the weight of Chuckie--

Gally pulled Chuckie's hips closer and rubbed a thumb at the skin between Chuckie's balls and asshole, making Chuckie shout out wordlessly--

Gally knew a hint when he saw one. Rubbed slowly, teasing at Chuckie's asshole with the leftover lube, feeling Chuckie's thighs shake over Gally's shoulders, and pulled back on Chuckie's cock--

Chuckie thumped his head hard against the pillow, pushing back against Gally's thigh, sweat beading at his neck--

Gally sucked at the head of Chuckie's cock, rubbed a tongue under it, and slowly slid his thumb into Chuckie. Chuckie moaned, a little high in his throat, and pushed back, fucking himself as much as he could on Gally's thumb while Gally's fingers cradled his balls. Gally looked up at Chuckie, and stole the lube lying next to Chuckie's leg, and put some on his fingers. Gally licked his way up Chuckie's cock, leaving one last suck on it, before he slid his fingers into Chuckie's ass.

Chuckie took them, so nice and easily, and fuck, Gally wanted to bend Chuckie over and fuck him--

Gally rubbed his fingers against Chuckie's prostate instead, making Chuckie grapple weakly at Gally's shoulders, so Gally did it again--

“ _Palets menya sil'neye--_ ” Chuckie gasped, his eyes very blue and very demanding--

Gally didn't know what Chuckie said, but he fucked him harder, stroking at Chuckie's cock, stroking as deeply as he could into Chuckie--

Chuckie thrust up, coming all over himself and Gally's hand, grinding down on Gally's fingers like they were his to own--

Fuck. Chuckie was pink, and covered in sweat, his spread legs taking over much of the bed. Seeing Chuckie lie there, debauched, with come all over himself *again*--

Gally leaned down, licking up the come with his tongue, ignoring Chuckie cursing him, and slowly slid out his fingers. Gally could feel Chuckie inhale sharply, feel him still quivering. Gally looked up when Chuckie pulled Gally up by his hair-- _again_ , he would have to talk to Chuckie about that because that was insanely possessive and maybe a little hot--

Chuckie had regained enough wind to smirk before saying, “How did you not pick up on the fact that I wanted--” he flopped a hand between the two of them-- “this?”

Gally licked his lips-- making Chuckie groan-- and shrugged, “We're here, aren't we?”

Chuckie blinked. Gally scrubbed his hands through Chuckie's bedsheets. Chuckie looked up at the ceiling, muttered, “The things I could do to you.”

Gally smiled, and smiled a little harder when he saw a purple-and-green mark right above Chuckie's right knee. Said, “Do tell.”

Hopefully none of them would include public fingering.

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](http://hastybooks.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> _Palets menya sil'neye_ according to Google Translate means "finger me harder". If you know of a better translation, please let me know!


End file.
